Air date: 21/01/1990
Published: Eighth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
This latest episode, in many ways, illustrates elements of what I might call the 'formula of adaptation' in those early days of Poirot one-hour episodes.
The basic story surrounds the proposed sale of a map of a Chinese silver mine to an English company. A Mr Wu-Ling turns up in the UK and books into a hotel prior to a business meeting. He subsequently goes missing and is found dead. Chief suspects are a rather down-and-out character called Dyer and a young bank clerk by the name of Charles Lester, who has a passion for gambling. In the end it turns out to be a Mr Pearson, from the company planning to buy the map.
In the adaptation a number of details and aspects of the plot are changed; more than had become customary, in my view. It is now a bank planning on acquiring the map and Mr Pearson is a director of the bank. Charles Lester, however, is a slightly dodgy American solicitor, whose weakness is opium, not gambling (Pearson is the gambler). Dyer (who is involved with the Chinatown narcotics world) has a much bigger role in the story. In fact, the whole sequence of events is different.
In the original Poirot is telling the story as flashback to Hastings after they begin discussing stocks and shares (Poirot had been given shares in "Burma Mines Ltd" for his part in solving the case). Japp isn't in the original (although he is briefly referred to): now he has a prominent role, using a operations room to dramatically co-ordinate the arrest of Dyer.
So much for the plot (which I didn't think was the most riveting). What do I mean by elements of the 'formula' of adaptation?
First, there is often a thematic link between the crime and Poirot and his 'team'. In this instance, as this is a tale about money and business, Hastings and Poirot are playing Monopoly; Poirot's bank account is overdrawn (it is later discovered that a cheque has not been paid in); and not only Hastings but even Miss Lemon (who is not in the original) are suddenly now followers of stocks and shares.
Also, it was becoming increasingly common for the one-hour episodes to begin and end on the same, slightly tangential piece of humour: in this instance, the Monopoly game. At the beginning Poirot doesn't really see the point of it (presumably because he is not doing too well), but at the end of the episode he wins - much to Hastings' annoyance.
Thursday, 27 February 2014
Friday, 21 February 2014
12. The Veiled Lady
Air date: 14/01/1990
Published: Sixteenth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
After the two-hour feature length episode of the previous week we returned to the one-hour adaptations of story stories, with a highly entertaining episode that has a wonderful twist to it.
At only 18 pages the original story is very short indeed. It opens with Hastings and Poirot discussing possible cases; the latter feeling somewhat frustrated. Hastings mentions a jewel theft in London and the killing of an Englishman in Holland, neither of which inspire. Astute readers of Agatha Christie will know, however, not to ignore such seemingly insignificant asides: they have a habit of coming back and biting you!
A Lady Millicent Castle Vaughan (the veiled lady of the title) turns up, seeking Poirot's help. Her engagement to a prominent Duke is threatened, it seems, by blackmail. An indiscreet letter, written in her teens, has apparently fallen into the unscrupulous hands of a Mr Lavington, who is demanding £20,000 to suppress it.
When Lavington pays a visit and rejects Poirot's attempts to resolve the matter amicably, our Belgian friend takes the law into his own hands, breaking into Lavington's home while he is in Paris. The letter had been hidden in a Chinese puzzle box, which Poirot and Hastings manage to retrieve. However, when they later present the letter to a relieved Lady Millicent she asks for the box as a souvenir of the incident. Poirot duly unmasks her as part of the jewel theft gang (the jewels are in another secret compartment in the puzzle box). The real Lavington had double-crossed the gang, who had later caught up with him in Holland and killed him. The blackmail story was a rouse to get Poirot to retrieve the jewels.
It is a lively story and in the TV adaptation it is hammed up for all its worth. In the original the night-time break-in at Laverton's home is aided by Poirot having visited earlier in the day, under the pretext of being a fitter of burglar alarms - but Poirot simply recounts this to Hastings in a couple of sentences. In the adaptation, however, the events of earlier in the day are played out superbly, and in full, with Poirot in suitable workman's clothes, arriving on a bike, and persuading the housekeeper he is a Swiss locksmith! Again, in the original, when the puzzle box is retrieved Hastings and Poirot simply return home. In the adaptation they are caught by a policeman (although Hastings does a runner) and Poirot spends a night in police cells! Our friend Japp enjoys every moment having him released the following morning. In the original the finale takes place at Poirot's flat, with Japp hiding in the bedroom to make an arrest at the appropriate moment. In the adaptation it takes place in the British Museum with a prolonged, comical attempt by the two culprits to hide! In the original it is made explicit that the compromising letter is bogus; in the adaptation this explanation gets a bit lost in the fun of the finale.
I have to add that this episode provides the defining 'Hastings moment', as far as I and my children are concerned. When Lady Millicent recounts her predicament at the hands of the dastardly Lavington, Hastings - dashing as ever - ejaculates: "The dirty swine!" And, yes, that line is in the original! For television the scriptwriters loved it enough to have Hastings repeat it a little later when the slimy Lavington pays them a visit!
Published: Sixteenth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
After the two-hour feature length episode of the previous week we returned to the one-hour adaptations of story stories, with a highly entertaining episode that has a wonderful twist to it.
At only 18 pages the original story is very short indeed. It opens with Hastings and Poirot discussing possible cases; the latter feeling somewhat frustrated. Hastings mentions a jewel theft in London and the killing of an Englishman in Holland, neither of which inspire. Astute readers of Agatha Christie will know, however, not to ignore such seemingly insignificant asides: they have a habit of coming back and biting you!
A Lady Millicent Castle Vaughan (the veiled lady of the title) turns up, seeking Poirot's help. Her engagement to a prominent Duke is threatened, it seems, by blackmail. An indiscreet letter, written in her teens, has apparently fallen into the unscrupulous hands of a Mr Lavington, who is demanding £20,000 to suppress it.
When Lavington pays a visit and rejects Poirot's attempts to resolve the matter amicably, our Belgian friend takes the law into his own hands, breaking into Lavington's home while he is in Paris. The letter had been hidden in a Chinese puzzle box, which Poirot and Hastings manage to retrieve. However, when they later present the letter to a relieved Lady Millicent she asks for the box as a souvenir of the incident. Poirot duly unmasks her as part of the jewel theft gang (the jewels are in another secret compartment in the puzzle box). The real Lavington had double-crossed the gang, who had later caught up with him in Holland and killed him. The blackmail story was a rouse to get Poirot to retrieve the jewels.
It is a lively story and in the TV adaptation it is hammed up for all its worth. In the original the night-time break-in at Laverton's home is aided by Poirot having visited earlier in the day, under the pretext of being a fitter of burglar alarms - but Poirot simply recounts this to Hastings in a couple of sentences. In the adaptation, however, the events of earlier in the day are played out superbly, and in full, with Poirot in suitable workman's clothes, arriving on a bike, and persuading the housekeeper he is a Swiss locksmith! Again, in the original, when the puzzle box is retrieved Hastings and Poirot simply return home. In the adaptation they are caught by a policeman (although Hastings does a runner) and Poirot spends a night in police cells! Our friend Japp enjoys every moment having him released the following morning. In the original the finale takes place at Poirot's flat, with Japp hiding in the bedroom to make an arrest at the appropriate moment. In the adaptation it takes place in the British Museum with a prolonged, comical attempt by the two culprits to hide! In the original it is made explicit that the compromising letter is bogus; in the adaptation this explanation gets a bit lost in the fun of the finale.
I have to add that this episode provides the defining 'Hastings moment', as far as I and my children are concerned. When Lady Millicent recounts her predicament at the hands of the dastardly Lavington, Hastings - dashing as ever - ejaculates: "The dirty swine!" And, yes, that line is in the original! For television the scriptwriters loved it enough to have Hastings repeat it a little later when the slimy Lavington pays them a visit!
Thursday, 20 February 2014
11. Peril at End House
Air date: 07/01/1990
Published: 1932
Series two began with what I guess at the time would have been called 'a feature-length episode'.
It's funny how that phrase has become largely redundant today. The two-hour episode - pioneered, to an extent, by Inspector Morse - became increasingly popular in the 1990s, in long-running crime series such as A Touch of Frost and the indefatigable Midsomer Murders. All Agatha Christie's Poirot episodes followed this format from 1995 but, back in 1990, it was novel. Yes, pun intended: the two-hour episodes are all adaptations of Poirot novels, rather than short-stories.
Peril at End House was a good choice to launch the foray into novels. It comes fairly early in the Agatha Christie canon and the original - like many of the short stories - has Hastings narrating. This all meant it fitted easily into the world the producers had created in the first series.
It is also, I think, a good story. Poirot and Hastings, on holiday in St Loo, bump into Magdala 'Nick' Buckley, who lives in the somewhat run-down End House, and who, it seems, has recently survived a series of attempts on her life. Poirot becomes involved, but the plot thickens when her cousin, Maggie, is shot during an evening firework display - while wearing Nick's shawl. Nick's cocaine-user friend Freddie (that's short for Frederica, by the way), is an obvious suspect, as she is a beneficiary of Nick's will, as is her lawyer-cousin, Charles Vyse.
I began this project with a theory that the two-hour productions were likely to be less scrupulously faithful to the originals - if only because adapting a full-blown novel inevitably involves more by way of condensing and omission than would be the case with the short stories.
I have to say, however, that this first two-hour production is remarkably faithful once again. Yes, of course, some of the comings-and-goings are simplified or re-arranged to conform nearly 300 pages of narrative into the time-frame, and we get to the killing sooner. Even so, the general structure, flow - and a good deal of the script - follow the original closely.
The summing-up is somewhat simplified, in which Nick is unmasked as the killer, pretending to have been engaged to the recently-killed airman Michael Seton (heir to a fortune), when, in actual fact, Maggie was. A sub-plot, involving Australian con-artists the Crofts, is retained, but another, involving Freddie's estranged husband, is omitted. In the original we as readers know Poirot lets everyone believe that Nick has died, in order to 'make something happen'. In the adaptation more tension is created by this not being revealed to the viewer until his fake-seance finale.
Japp, who, in the original, is consulted briefly in London and then turns up at the end, now has a bigger role. Miss Lemon (not in the original) comes down to St Loo with some information for Poirot on the cocaine-dealing antics of another character, George Challenger.
Interestingly, there are references in the original to The Mystery of the Blue Train (the previous Poirot novel) as well as to The Mysterious Affair at Styles and the short story The Chocolate Box. These were omitted in the adaptation.
In the novel's opening scene at the Majestic Hotel Poirot is retired or, at least, on the threshold of retiring - a theme that crops up regularly in the books. As all serious fans will know, chronology is something of an issue with Poirot. Agatha Christie later admitted she had made a mistake depicting him as elderly in the very first novel. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and, of course, she originally killed him off in the early 1940s, which would have made the chronology workable. That story (Curtain) was suppressed for four decades; a capitulation, I suspect, to commercial pressure (particularly given the fact that Christie had by then become thoroughly fed-up with her Belgian hero). Nevertheless, who can blame her?
The retirement issue is ignored in the TV production. It is, however, a theme we will inevitably re-visit as the episodes continue.
Published: 1932
Series two began with what I guess at the time would have been called 'a feature-length episode'.
It's funny how that phrase has become largely redundant today. The two-hour episode - pioneered, to an extent, by Inspector Morse - became increasingly popular in the 1990s, in long-running crime series such as A Touch of Frost and the indefatigable Midsomer Murders. All Agatha Christie's Poirot episodes followed this format from 1995 but, back in 1990, it was novel. Yes, pun intended: the two-hour episodes are all adaptations of Poirot novels, rather than short-stories.
Peril at End House was a good choice to launch the foray into novels. It comes fairly early in the Agatha Christie canon and the original - like many of the short stories - has Hastings narrating. This all meant it fitted easily into the world the producers had created in the first series.
It is also, I think, a good story. Poirot and Hastings, on holiday in St Loo, bump into Magdala 'Nick' Buckley, who lives in the somewhat run-down End House, and who, it seems, has recently survived a series of attempts on her life. Poirot becomes involved, but the plot thickens when her cousin, Maggie, is shot during an evening firework display - while wearing Nick's shawl. Nick's cocaine-user friend Freddie (that's short for Frederica, by the way), is an obvious suspect, as she is a beneficiary of Nick's will, as is her lawyer-cousin, Charles Vyse.
I began this project with a theory that the two-hour productions were likely to be less scrupulously faithful to the originals - if only because adapting a full-blown novel inevitably involves more by way of condensing and omission than would be the case with the short stories.
I have to say, however, that this first two-hour production is remarkably faithful once again. Yes, of course, some of the comings-and-goings are simplified or re-arranged to conform nearly 300 pages of narrative into the time-frame, and we get to the killing sooner. Even so, the general structure, flow - and a good deal of the script - follow the original closely.
The summing-up is somewhat simplified, in which Nick is unmasked as the killer, pretending to have been engaged to the recently-killed airman Michael Seton (heir to a fortune), when, in actual fact, Maggie was. A sub-plot, involving Australian con-artists the Crofts, is retained, but another, involving Freddie's estranged husband, is omitted. In the original we as readers know Poirot lets everyone believe that Nick has died, in order to 'make something happen'. In the adaptation more tension is created by this not being revealed to the viewer until his fake-seance finale.
Japp, who, in the original, is consulted briefly in London and then turns up at the end, now has a bigger role. Miss Lemon (not in the original) comes down to St Loo with some information for Poirot on the cocaine-dealing antics of another character, George Challenger.
Interestingly, there are references in the original to The Mystery of the Blue Train (the previous Poirot novel) as well as to The Mysterious Affair at Styles and the short story The Chocolate Box. These were omitted in the adaptation.
In the novel's opening scene at the Majestic Hotel Poirot is retired or, at least, on the threshold of retiring - a theme that crops up regularly in the books. As all serious fans will know, chronology is something of an issue with Poirot. Agatha Christie later admitted she had made a mistake depicting him as elderly in the very first novel. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and, of course, she originally killed him off in the early 1940s, which would have made the chronology workable. That story (Curtain) was suppressed for four decades; a capitulation, I suspect, to commercial pressure (particularly given the fact that Christie had by then become thoroughly fed-up with her Belgian hero). Nevertheless, who can blame her?
The retirement issue is ignored in the TV production. It is, however, a theme we will inevitably re-visit as the episodes continue.
Tuesday, 18 February 2014
Interlude: "Poirot and Me"
For Christmas (2013) my wife bought me David Suchet's recently published account, "Poirot and Me", which I had eagerly devoured in those 'lovely lazy days' between Christmas and New Year.
It occurred to me that I could add another dimension to this blog by re-reading the parallel section of the actor's book, at the end of each series.
It takes David Suchet four (out of a total of 19) chapters to bring us to the point where he had just completed the filming of series one, with a short fifth chapter then commenting on its reception when it began to air.
This is understandable: He was not, after all, writing an episode-by-episode review, but an autobiographical reminisence of his incredible 25 years playing Poirot. How it all began is clearly of major significance.
So, after a moving Preface (on filming Curtain) we are given insight, in the opening chapters, into how he came to be offered the role, and how his 'character actor' background led him to gradually, methodically, take on the mantle of the fastidious Belgian detective. This included writing a lengthy list of Poirot's characteristics, drawn from his reading of the original novels and short stories. A facsimile of his original list is published at the end of the book.
The first series was filmed between July and December 1988 - at an exhausting pace. There was considerable uncertainty as to how it would be received. In the end, media and audience reaction was overwhelmingly good - and towards the end of February 1989 (while the first series was still on air) ITV confirmed they wanted to go ahead and make a second series.
It occurred to me that I could add another dimension to this blog by re-reading the parallel section of the actor's book, at the end of each series.
It takes David Suchet four (out of a total of 19) chapters to bring us to the point where he had just completed the filming of series one, with a short fifth chapter then commenting on its reception when it began to air.
This is understandable: He was not, after all, writing an episode-by-episode review, but an autobiographical reminisence of his incredible 25 years playing Poirot. How it all began is clearly of major significance.
So, after a moving Preface (on filming Curtain) we are given insight, in the opening chapters, into how he came to be offered the role, and how his 'character actor' background led him to gradually, methodically, take on the mantle of the fastidious Belgian detective. This included writing a lengthy list of Poirot's characteristics, drawn from his reading of the original novels and short stories. A facsimile of his original list is published at the end of the book.
The first series was filmed between July and December 1988 - at an exhausting pace. There was considerable uncertainty as to how it would be received. In the end, media and audience reaction was overwhelmingly good - and towards the end of February 1989 (while the first series was still on air) ITV confirmed they wanted to go ahead and make a second series.
10. The Dream
Air date: 19/03/1989
Published: Fifth story in "The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding" (1960)
The Dream is one of those episodes of Agatha Christie's Poirot that, for whatever reason, I seem to have watched several times over the years - or, at least, the plot and details have stayed with me.
That possibly threatens to skew one's perspective, even though for "Little Grey Cells" I am continuing to read the original before watching the adaptation.
The story concerns a rich businessman, Benedict Farley, who consults Poirot over a recurring dream he has been having of shooting himself. Poirot is unable to help but when, a few days later, Farley is found shot (and evidence of their meeting comes to light) he is called in to assist the investigation.
It turns out that Poirot did not meet Farley. Rather, it was his private secretary, Hugo Cornworthy, in disguise. Cornworthy, who had meticulously planned the whole thing (in cahoots with Farley's wife), had later shot Farley through an adjacent window.
I was struck by the faithfulness of the TV adaptation's script to the original, down to several chunks of dialogue being taken verbatim.
That's not to say there aren't embellishments, of course: in fact, there are plenty, but they don't grate. The full 'team' of Hastings, Miss Lemon and Japp are in attendance, although none of them appear in the original. Farley's business (not really stated in the original) is now seen to be, of all things, the manufacturing of pies. In fact, the episode opens with a Pathe news piece on an expansion of his factory. For some reason the murder happens at 12:28, not 3:28, and Farley was due to meet some union reps, not journalists.
There is considerable humour in this episode. At the beginning Miss Lemon complains that she needs a new typewriter - but at the end Poirot presents her with a new clock. When unable to solve the case Poirot complains that the failure of his 'little grey cells' are the fruits of fast living in younger days - to which Hastings is suitably flabbergasted! Poirot - ever the connoiseur - is dismissive of Farley's pies. All of this shows the degree to which the writers had developed the main characters by the end of this first series.
Interestingly, in the original Poirot consults his new acquisition: a wrist-watch! As the TV producers set everything in the 1930s this would be anathema to the little Belgian. We also have a 'summing up' scene involving all the characters; something that would become a regular feature in the later, two-hour episodes.
In the adaptation we once again have a dramatic 'television' ending that is absent from the original. Cornworthy does a runner (even evading the derring-do of Hastings), only to be taken down, rugby-tackle style, by Herbert, the impoverished love-interest of Farley's daughter Joanna.
And so on this spirited and entertaining note the first series of Agatha Christie's Poirot came to an end.
Published: Fifth story in "The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding" (1960)
The Dream is one of those episodes of Agatha Christie's Poirot that, for whatever reason, I seem to have watched several times over the years - or, at least, the plot and details have stayed with me.
That possibly threatens to skew one's perspective, even though for "Little Grey Cells" I am continuing to read the original before watching the adaptation.
The story concerns a rich businessman, Benedict Farley, who consults Poirot over a recurring dream he has been having of shooting himself. Poirot is unable to help but when, a few days later, Farley is found shot (and evidence of their meeting comes to light) he is called in to assist the investigation.
It turns out that Poirot did not meet Farley. Rather, it was his private secretary, Hugo Cornworthy, in disguise. Cornworthy, who had meticulously planned the whole thing (in cahoots with Farley's wife), had later shot Farley through an adjacent window.
I was struck by the faithfulness of the TV adaptation's script to the original, down to several chunks of dialogue being taken verbatim.
That's not to say there aren't embellishments, of course: in fact, there are plenty, but they don't grate. The full 'team' of Hastings, Miss Lemon and Japp are in attendance, although none of them appear in the original. Farley's business (not really stated in the original) is now seen to be, of all things, the manufacturing of pies. In fact, the episode opens with a Pathe news piece on an expansion of his factory. For some reason the murder happens at 12:28, not 3:28, and Farley was due to meet some union reps, not journalists.
There is considerable humour in this episode. At the beginning Miss Lemon complains that she needs a new typewriter - but at the end Poirot presents her with a new clock. When unable to solve the case Poirot complains that the failure of his 'little grey cells' are the fruits of fast living in younger days - to which Hastings is suitably flabbergasted! Poirot - ever the connoiseur - is dismissive of Farley's pies. All of this shows the degree to which the writers had developed the main characters by the end of this first series.
Interestingly, in the original Poirot consults his new acquisition: a wrist-watch! As the TV producers set everything in the 1930s this would be anathema to the little Belgian. We also have a 'summing up' scene involving all the characters; something that would become a regular feature in the later, two-hour episodes.
In the adaptation we once again have a dramatic 'television' ending that is absent from the original. Cornworthy does a runner (even evading the derring-do of Hastings), only to be taken down, rugby-tackle style, by Herbert, the impoverished love-interest of Farley's daughter Joanna.
And so on this spirited and entertaining note the first series of Agatha Christie's Poirot came to an end.
Thursday, 13 February 2014
9. The King of Clubs
Air date: 12/03/1989
Published: Sixth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
As I began watching the opening scenes of this latest Agatha Christie's Poirot I seriously wondered - for a few seconds - if I was watching the right episode.
I had just read the short story The King of Clubs; a tale that I couldn't, if I'm honest, remember from the title alone. If nothing else, this episode demonstrated that adaptation is, indeed, an art form...
When you strip it down the central plot of the TV adaptation is, admittedly, fairly faithful to the original story. A young woman, Valerie Saintclair, goes to visit Henry Reedburn at his suburban villa. On finding him dead she runs to a nearby home and interrupts a family, the Oglanders, who are playing bridge, to announce there has been a murder.
Poirot eventually deduces that this was no coincidence; that the Oglanders are, in fact, Miss Saintclair's family, and that Reedburn was killed accidentally by her brother.
In the original all we are told about Reedburn is that he is an "impressario" who "suffers from a somewhat unsavoury reputation". Miss Saintclair, meanwhile is a dancer. Reedburn holds knowledge of "some secret" over her.
In the TV adaptation Reedburn is now a bigshot film producer and Miss Saintclair an actress appearing in his latest film. She is starring alongside fading hero Ralph Walton, whose dismissal by Reedburn provides a fairly predictable red herring. The episode opens in the film studio - hence my initial doubt as to whether I was watching the right episode.
Hastings and Poirot visit the filmset, as the director, Bunny Saunders, is a friend of Hastings. No time is spent at Poirot's flat in this episode, which meant no Miss Lemon. Japp is in attendance (although not in the original) and is, as ever, dismissive of Poirot's methods.
Published: Sixth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
As I began watching the opening scenes of this latest Agatha Christie's Poirot I seriously wondered - for a few seconds - if I was watching the right episode.
I had just read the short story The King of Clubs; a tale that I couldn't, if I'm honest, remember from the title alone. If nothing else, this episode demonstrated that adaptation is, indeed, an art form...
When you strip it down the central plot of the TV adaptation is, admittedly, fairly faithful to the original story. A young woman, Valerie Saintclair, goes to visit Henry Reedburn at his suburban villa. On finding him dead she runs to a nearby home and interrupts a family, the Oglanders, who are playing bridge, to announce there has been a murder.
Poirot eventually deduces that this was no coincidence; that the Oglanders are, in fact, Miss Saintclair's family, and that Reedburn was killed accidentally by her brother.
In the original all we are told about Reedburn is that he is an "impressario" who "suffers from a somewhat unsavoury reputation". Miss Saintclair, meanwhile is a dancer. Reedburn holds knowledge of "some secret" over her.
In the TV adaptation Reedburn is now a bigshot film producer and Miss Saintclair an actress appearing in his latest film. She is starring alongside fading hero Ralph Walton, whose dismissal by Reedburn provides a fairly predictable red herring. The episode opens in the film studio - hence my initial doubt as to whether I was watching the right episode.
Hastings and Poirot visit the filmset, as the director, Bunny Saunders, is a friend of Hastings. No time is spent at Poirot's flat in this episode, which meant no Miss Lemon. Japp is in attendance (although not in the original) and is, as ever, dismissive of Poirot's methods.
Monday, 10 February 2014
8. The Incredible Theft
Air date: 26/02/1989
Published: Second story in "Murder in the Mews" (1937)
Agatha Christie's career as a writer was long and prolific (not to mention incomparably successful!). It was also quite complex. Over the years novels were adapted for the stage, as were some short stories. Other short stories were re-worked for different publications.
It was with this latter fact in mind that I decided to read not one, but two stories for the next post in "Little Grey Cells".
The Submarine Plans was written for publication in Sketch magazine in 1923. Christie later developed it into the novella The Incredible Theft for the "Murder in the Mews" collection. This was the title for the next episode in that first TV series in 1989.
However, what intrigued me was that The Submarine Plans resurfaced (yes, I know - but I couldn't resist that one!) in the "Poirot's Early Cases" collection of short stories. Given the extent to which the producers were drawing on that collection for the first TV series I wanted to see if they had referenced the original story in any way.
The answer? Well, not at all really - unless you count the presence of Hastings (which I don't, as I think this was simply following the policy of including the 'team', rather than any acknowledgement of his appearing in The Submarine Plans). In fact, what is noticeable when making this three-way comparison is how the TV production differs from what is common to both written versions.
Christie changed all the lead characters' names for The Incredible Theft. The TV production followed these versions, so they are the ones I will refer to. The story surrounds Lord Mayfield, an engineer and mover in high places who is into military vehicle design. He hosts a party at his big country home attended by Sir George Carrington, a senior government official, and the mysterious Mrs Vanderlyn, known to be in league with the enemy. Mayfield convinces Sir George he has invited her along in order to trap her. In the event the plans for a new vehicle (a submarine in the first story, of course; a bomber in the re-write; a fighter in the TV production) get stolen, and it seems Mrs Vanderlyn has turned the tables on those seeking to incriminate her.
Poirot deduces that Mayfield has engineered (sorry: another awful pun) the theft, having done a deal with Mrs Vanderlyn to exchange them for an incriminating letter linking him with the Japanese a few years earlier. It all ends well, however, when it is announced that Mayfield has 'doctored' the plans: Mrs Vanderlyn has made off with duff specifications, while Mayfield has preserved his reputation.
In both written versions a significant element to the story is that Carlile (Mayfield's secretary) left the study briefly after Mrs Vanderlyn's french maid was heard to scream in the hallway. The latter claimed this was because she had seen a ghost; whereas, in fact, she was covering for Sir George's somewhat wayward young son Reggie, who had kissed her on the stairs! Whether this social faux pas was considered too lame for a 1989 TV audience I don't know - but the producers ignored it totally. In fact, Mrs Vanderlyn's maid does not even appear! Reggie does, without adding anything to the story, and the same goes for his mother, a rather too keen bridge player. In the original she believes Reggie has stolen the plans and tells Poirot she can get them back. With this whole sub-plot removed the story becomes far simpler.
To make up for this other, more dramatic elements are added. Japp (not in the original) turns up and takes Mrs Vanderlyn in for questioning. Poirot and Hastings then follow her in a dramatic car chase (what a surprise!), where they observe her handing over the case containing the plans at the gate of the German ambassador's country home.
Another character, the social activist Mrs Macatta, has been omitted (which is no loss) and another added: Mayfield now has a wife (he is said to be a bachelor in Christie's The Incredible Theft). In fact it is his concerned wife who contacts Poirot. We first see Poirot in his flat polishing his shoes while advising Hastings on affairs of the heart. This scene enables the writers to slot in a brief appearance from the last of the 'team', Miss Lemon.
It is interesting that Christie had two goes at this story, because I don't think it is a particularly strong one. The same, I have to say, goes for the TV rendering.
Published: Second story in "Murder in the Mews" (1937)
Agatha Christie's career as a writer was long and prolific (not to mention incomparably successful!). It was also quite complex. Over the years novels were adapted for the stage, as were some short stories. Other short stories were re-worked for different publications.
It was with this latter fact in mind that I decided to read not one, but two stories for the next post in "Little Grey Cells".
The Submarine Plans was written for publication in Sketch magazine in 1923. Christie later developed it into the novella The Incredible Theft for the "Murder in the Mews" collection. This was the title for the next episode in that first TV series in 1989.
However, what intrigued me was that The Submarine Plans resurfaced (yes, I know - but I couldn't resist that one!) in the "Poirot's Early Cases" collection of short stories. Given the extent to which the producers were drawing on that collection for the first TV series I wanted to see if they had referenced the original story in any way.
The answer? Well, not at all really - unless you count the presence of Hastings (which I don't, as I think this was simply following the policy of including the 'team', rather than any acknowledgement of his appearing in The Submarine Plans). In fact, what is noticeable when making this three-way comparison is how the TV production differs from what is common to both written versions.
Christie changed all the lead characters' names for The Incredible Theft. The TV production followed these versions, so they are the ones I will refer to. The story surrounds Lord Mayfield, an engineer and mover in high places who is into military vehicle design. He hosts a party at his big country home attended by Sir George Carrington, a senior government official, and the mysterious Mrs Vanderlyn, known to be in league with the enemy. Mayfield convinces Sir George he has invited her along in order to trap her. In the event the plans for a new vehicle (a submarine in the first story, of course; a bomber in the re-write; a fighter in the TV production) get stolen, and it seems Mrs Vanderlyn has turned the tables on those seeking to incriminate her.
Poirot deduces that Mayfield has engineered (sorry: another awful pun) the theft, having done a deal with Mrs Vanderlyn to exchange them for an incriminating letter linking him with the Japanese a few years earlier. It all ends well, however, when it is announced that Mayfield has 'doctored' the plans: Mrs Vanderlyn has made off with duff specifications, while Mayfield has preserved his reputation.
In both written versions a significant element to the story is that Carlile (Mayfield's secretary) left the study briefly after Mrs Vanderlyn's french maid was heard to scream in the hallway. The latter claimed this was because she had seen a ghost; whereas, in fact, she was covering for Sir George's somewhat wayward young son Reggie, who had kissed her on the stairs! Whether this social faux pas was considered too lame for a 1989 TV audience I don't know - but the producers ignored it totally. In fact, Mrs Vanderlyn's maid does not even appear! Reggie does, without adding anything to the story, and the same goes for his mother, a rather too keen bridge player. In the original she believes Reggie has stolen the plans and tells Poirot she can get them back. With this whole sub-plot removed the story becomes far simpler.
To make up for this other, more dramatic elements are added. Japp (not in the original) turns up and takes Mrs Vanderlyn in for questioning. Poirot and Hastings then follow her in a dramatic car chase (what a surprise!), where they observe her handing over the case containing the plans at the gate of the German ambassador's country home.
Another character, the social activist Mrs Macatta, has been omitted (which is no loss) and another added: Mayfield now has a wife (he is said to be a bachelor in Christie's The Incredible Theft). In fact it is his concerned wife who contacts Poirot. We first see Poirot in his flat polishing his shoes while advising Hastings on affairs of the heart. This scene enables the writers to slot in a brief appearance from the last of the 'team', Miss Lemon.
It is interesting that Christie had two goes at this story, because I don't think it is a particularly strong one. The same, I have to say, goes for the TV rendering.
Thursday, 6 February 2014
7. Problem at Sea
Air date: 19/02/1989
Published: Seventeenth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974).
It's a hard life being a world-famous detective: One week on the beach at Rhodes, the next week cruising in the Med.
To be fair, Triangle at Rhodes and Problem at Sea weren't originally written to be read side-by-side in sequence, but this is how they appeared to viewers of that first TV series of Agatha Christie's Poirot.
That meant, for the second week running, no Japp, no Miss Lemon, and no scenes in Poirot's very art deco flat. No Hastings either? Well, that would be too much, wouldn't it? So, although he doesn't appear in the original story, he is on board with Poirot for this one, busily arranging a clay pigeon shooting competition, no less.
The story concerns a Mrs Adeline Clapperton, who is found dead - stabbed - in her cabin. Her long-suffering husband, Colonel John Clapperton, was ashore at the time with two young girls who have rather taken pity on him and enjoy 'rescuing' him from his nagging wife.
The upshot is that the Colonel did it, using his skills as a ventriloquist to apparently speak to his wife through the locked cabin door - when in fact she was already dead.
Once again it has to be said that the TV production is remarkably faithful to the original, even down to Poirot staging a talking doll scene in the finale to unmask the killer (although in the original he promptly collapses and dies of a heart attack, whereas on television he is arrested by the ship's crew).
Such embellishments as were added were, on this occasion, more to do with throwing red herrings at the viewers than padding out the plot. So, General Forbes, a character on board who knew the Clappertons of old, is now presented as having been in love with the victim for years. Local hawkers are spotted on board the ship. A one-eyed steward is seen to approach Mrs Clapperton's cabin (and is later discovered to have stolen some jewellery from the cabin).
The ending is also very faithful to the original, with Poirot speaking on deck to a Miss Ellie Henderson, a woman who obviously admired the Colonel from a distance. It is rather poignant ... and something of a respite from the 'dramatic chase' type endings of late.
Published: Seventeenth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974).
It's a hard life being a world-famous detective: One week on the beach at Rhodes, the next week cruising in the Med.
To be fair, Triangle at Rhodes and Problem at Sea weren't originally written to be read side-by-side in sequence, but this is how they appeared to viewers of that first TV series of Agatha Christie's Poirot.
That meant, for the second week running, no Japp, no Miss Lemon, and no scenes in Poirot's very art deco flat. No Hastings either? Well, that would be too much, wouldn't it? So, although he doesn't appear in the original story, he is on board with Poirot for this one, busily arranging a clay pigeon shooting competition, no less.
The story concerns a Mrs Adeline Clapperton, who is found dead - stabbed - in her cabin. Her long-suffering husband, Colonel John Clapperton, was ashore at the time with two young girls who have rather taken pity on him and enjoy 'rescuing' him from his nagging wife.
The upshot is that the Colonel did it, using his skills as a ventriloquist to apparently speak to his wife through the locked cabin door - when in fact she was already dead.
Once again it has to be said that the TV production is remarkably faithful to the original, even down to Poirot staging a talking doll scene in the finale to unmask the killer (although in the original he promptly collapses and dies of a heart attack, whereas on television he is arrested by the ship's crew).
Such embellishments as were added were, on this occasion, more to do with throwing red herrings at the viewers than padding out the plot. So, General Forbes, a character on board who knew the Clappertons of old, is now presented as having been in love with the victim for years. Local hawkers are spotted on board the ship. A one-eyed steward is seen to approach Mrs Clapperton's cabin (and is later discovered to have stolen some jewellery from the cabin).
The ending is also very faithful to the original, with Poirot speaking on deck to a Miss Ellie Henderson, a woman who obviously admired the Colonel from a distance. It is rather poignant ... and something of a respite from the 'dramatic chase' type endings of late.
Wednesday, 5 February 2014
6. Triangle at Rhodes
Air date: 12/02/1989
Published: Fourth story in "Murder in the Mews" (1937)
As its title suggests, Triangle at Rhodes features perhaps the classic motive in the world of murder mystery - the 'love triangle'.
The twist, however, in this delightful tale, is it's not the couple you are expecting it to be who are planning deeds most foul.
As the title also suggests, this story is set on the island of Rhodes. In the original it opens with Poirot sitting on the beach talking to Miss Pamela Lyall, a talkative, inquisitive soul, who functions as a kind of 'Hastings stand-in', asking all the questions, appearing thoroughly confused and acting as a suitable foil and sounding-board for Poirot's 'little grey cells'.
The TV adaptation opens with a brief and, to my mind, largely unnecessary scene outside Whitehaven Mansions where the doorman and the postman discuss the fact that everyone is away: Hastings has gone shooting, Miss Lemon has gone to her sister's in Folkestone, and Poirot has gone abroad on holiday. We then cut to the two key couples, Tony and Valentine Chantry and Douglas and Marjorie Gold, arriving at the hotel in Rhodes. It is quite some time before we actually reach the point at which the original novella begins.
An additional character, Miss Sarah Blake, is omitted, without any real loss to the flow, and another, General Barnes, is beefed up considerably (although he has now been demoted to the rank of 'Major'). In the adaptation he presents himself as a rather dyed-in-the-wool fishing lover - but Poirot works out that he is really a British spy, keeping an eye on the activities of the occupying Italian forces.
Despite that, the production is very faithful to the original, with the man-eating Valentine drinking a poisoned Pink Gin which, it is initially assumed, was really meant for her husband (to clear the way for Douglas) but was in fact meant for her in order to implicate Douglas at the same time and so free up Tony and the rather plain Mrs Gold to be together.
The TV producers' obsession with exciting 'car-chase' type endings continued. In the absence of Hastings and his sports car we had a boat chase - Major Barnes stepping up to the plate and providing the transport!
Published: Fourth story in "Murder in the Mews" (1937)
As its title suggests, Triangle at Rhodes features perhaps the classic motive in the world of murder mystery - the 'love triangle'.
The twist, however, in this delightful tale, is it's not the couple you are expecting it to be who are planning deeds most foul.
As the title also suggests, this story is set on the island of Rhodes. In the original it opens with Poirot sitting on the beach talking to Miss Pamela Lyall, a talkative, inquisitive soul, who functions as a kind of 'Hastings stand-in', asking all the questions, appearing thoroughly confused and acting as a suitable foil and sounding-board for Poirot's 'little grey cells'.
The TV adaptation opens with a brief and, to my mind, largely unnecessary scene outside Whitehaven Mansions where the doorman and the postman discuss the fact that everyone is away: Hastings has gone shooting, Miss Lemon has gone to her sister's in Folkestone, and Poirot has gone abroad on holiday. We then cut to the two key couples, Tony and Valentine Chantry and Douglas and Marjorie Gold, arriving at the hotel in Rhodes. It is quite some time before we actually reach the point at which the original novella begins.
An additional character, Miss Sarah Blake, is omitted, without any real loss to the flow, and another, General Barnes, is beefed up considerably (although he has now been demoted to the rank of 'Major'). In the adaptation he presents himself as a rather dyed-in-the-wool fishing lover - but Poirot works out that he is really a British spy, keeping an eye on the activities of the occupying Italian forces.
Despite that, the production is very faithful to the original, with the man-eating Valentine drinking a poisoned Pink Gin which, it is initially assumed, was really meant for her husband (to clear the way for Douglas) but was in fact meant for her in order to implicate Douglas at the same time and so free up Tony and the rather plain Mrs Gold to be together.
The TV producers' obsession with exciting 'car-chase' type endings continued. In the absence of Hastings and his sports car we had a boat chase - Major Barnes stepping up to the plate and providing the transport!
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
5. Third Floor Flat
Air date: 05/02/1989
Published: Twelfth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
This episode is a wonderful example of the embellishments that were often necessary to adapt the shorter of Poirot short stories to fit the one-hour TV programme format.
Continuing the trend of the first series so far, the adaptation is once again very faithful to the original. The story concerns the murder of a woman living in Poirot's block of flats. Her body is discovered by two young men who are endeavouring to 'break in' to the flat of a friend who has lost her key. Using the service/coal lift they mistakenly alight on the floor below their intended destination.
There are some minor changes in the details, but basically, after realising they are in the wrong flat, they find the body, and go up to their friend's flat (via the service lift) and open the door from the inside, as originally intended. At this point Poirot, who has been eavesdropping, gets involved. A monogrammed handkerchief and a short note appear to point to a 'John Fraser'. The upshot, however, is that the murderer was one of the two men. The woman he had shot earlier in the evening was his estranged wife. He had killed her because he was in love with Patricia, the woman who lived in the flat below.
Now for the embellishments. In the original Poirot claims he has a cold at the point of duping the culprit to sniff some ethyl chloride. It is far from clear whether or not this is genuine. In the adaptation much more is made of his cold. We first see him in his flat inhaling balsam under the direction of Miss Lemon (who, again, is not in the original). Hastings (who, on this occasion, is not in the original, either) turns up and takes Poirot out to the theatre, to watch a murder mystery (in which Poirot comically fails to spot the murderer!). As the two young men, Donovan and Jimmy, and their two friends, Patricia and Mildred, go to the same theatre production, all of this occupies a significant chunk of the episode.
It was becoming clear that the producers of the TV series were also opting for more exciting conclusions (understandable, really, for a television audience). In the original, Poirot's explanations to Jimmy bring the story to a close (it is assumed Donovan, who has gone home, will be arrested). In the TV production we have a lengthy dramatic conclusion as Donovan attempts to flee the block of flats - and ends up crashing Hastings' sports car! Back in the flat he confesses, and we see what happened in flashback. Interestingly, we see him goaded and humiliated by his wife, who steadfastly refuses his request for a divorce. She comes across, to me, as decidedly unpleasant. Were we meant to have some sympathy for Donovan?
In the original it is an Inspector Rice who leads the police enquiries. For the television it is, of course, our old friend Japp again. Rice actually shows considerable deference to Poirot. Japp, on the other hand, is his usual eyebrow-raising self, bemused at the way Poirot always complicates 'open-and-shut' cases!
Published: Twelfth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
This episode is a wonderful example of the embellishments that were often necessary to adapt the shorter of Poirot short stories to fit the one-hour TV programme format.
Continuing the trend of the first series so far, the adaptation is once again very faithful to the original. The story concerns the murder of a woman living in Poirot's block of flats. Her body is discovered by two young men who are endeavouring to 'break in' to the flat of a friend who has lost her key. Using the service/coal lift they mistakenly alight on the floor below their intended destination.
There are some minor changes in the details, but basically, after realising they are in the wrong flat, they find the body, and go up to their friend's flat (via the service lift) and open the door from the inside, as originally intended. At this point Poirot, who has been eavesdropping, gets involved. A monogrammed handkerchief and a short note appear to point to a 'John Fraser'. The upshot, however, is that the murderer was one of the two men. The woman he had shot earlier in the evening was his estranged wife. He had killed her because he was in love with Patricia, the woman who lived in the flat below.
Now for the embellishments. In the original Poirot claims he has a cold at the point of duping the culprit to sniff some ethyl chloride. It is far from clear whether or not this is genuine. In the adaptation much more is made of his cold. We first see him in his flat inhaling balsam under the direction of Miss Lemon (who, again, is not in the original). Hastings (who, on this occasion, is not in the original, either) turns up and takes Poirot out to the theatre, to watch a murder mystery (in which Poirot comically fails to spot the murderer!). As the two young men, Donovan and Jimmy, and their two friends, Patricia and Mildred, go to the same theatre production, all of this occupies a significant chunk of the episode.
It was becoming clear that the producers of the TV series were also opting for more exciting conclusions (understandable, really, for a television audience). In the original, Poirot's explanations to Jimmy bring the story to a close (it is assumed Donovan, who has gone home, will be arrested). In the TV production we have a lengthy dramatic conclusion as Donovan attempts to flee the block of flats - and ends up crashing Hastings' sports car! Back in the flat he confesses, and we see what happened in flashback. Interestingly, we see him goaded and humiliated by his wife, who steadfastly refuses his request for a divorce. She comes across, to me, as decidedly unpleasant. Were we meant to have some sympathy for Donovan?
In the original it is an Inspector Rice who leads the police enquiries. For the television it is, of course, our old friend Japp again. Rice actually shows considerable deference to Poirot. Japp, on the other hand, is his usual eyebrow-raising self, bemused at the way Poirot always complicates 'open-and-shut' cases!
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